


Auld Lang Syne

by eternaleponine



Series: Clexathon 2016 [16]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: A continuation ofSo This Is Christmas.Clarke invites Lexa out with her and her friends for New Year's Eve.





	

They spent most of Christmas day in bed, only getting up to answer the door and retrieve the Chinese food that they'd ordered when they realized the sun was already going down and they hadn't eaten anything resembling a meal since the night before. Lexa found herself dressed in a paint-speckled t-shirt that had been worn so many times it was shading into translucent, and a pair of striped pajama pants that rode low on her hips because the elastic was shot. 

They set out the cartons on the trunk that served as a coffee table and Clarke retrieved two plates. "For you I'll pretend that I'm civilized and don't usually just eat straight out of the containers," she said. "I want you to think that I'm classy." She winked and handed one of the plates to Lexa. They were chipped and didn't match, which under other circumstances would have bothered her, but here and now Lexa found herself just smiling, because it seemed _right_ for Clarke.

She kept glancing over at Clarke as she ate, trying to figure out what to say to her. She would have to say something at some point, but what? What did you say to someone that you barely knew, but who had made you feel more alive in the past 48 hours than you had ever felt before? 

"I should—" Lexa started, at the same time Clarke said, "You should—"

They both stopped, waiting for the other to continue, and Lexa finally decided that she would spare Clarke from having to say it, because they were obviously thinking the same thing. 

But again their words collided, and they weren't on the same page at all, because just as Lexa said, "Go," Clarke said, "Stay."

"Oh," they both said in unison, Lexa in surprise and Clarke actually sounded disappointed.

"If you want," Clarke said after a moment. "But you don't have to." She swallowed, turning toward her and extending her leg so that it brushed against Lexa's. "I don't really want you to."

"I don't really want to," Lexa admitted. "I just didn't want to overstay my welcome."

"You haven't," Clarke said. "You won't."

"Okay." Lexa looked down at her plate, then back at Clarke. "I don't usually do this," she said.

"What?" Clarke asked. "Fall into bed with one of Santa's helpers?" She grinned. "Because I've hung up the jingly shoes for the year."

"Fall into bed with anyone," Lexa said. 

Clarke raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"I'm... I'm not really relationship material," Lexa said. "I'm a self-centered workaholic."

"Are those your words, or someone else's?" Clarke asked. "I can't really speak to the latter part, but I'm going to have to disagree pretty strongly with the former. Based on my own personal experience, which is, of course, limited, I don't think your problem is that you care too much about yourself and not enough about other people. I'm actually pretty sure it's the exact opposite. You care so much about other people that it scares you, so you bury yourself in work so you don't have time to feel."

"Have you been talking to my shrink?" Lexa asked, trying to make a joke out of it because the words hit way too close to home. 

"No," Clarke said. "When you spend as much time as I do observing people, you just start to notice things." She shrugged. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

Lexa sighed. "Someone else's," she said. "My ex's."

"I figured," Clarke said. "I'm sorry that she – I assume they were a she, but it doesn't really matter either way – said that to you. If something's not working, it's not working, and you accept that and you move on. I don't know why people feel the need to inflict damage on each other in the process."

"I deserved it," Lexa said. "She wanted... more than I could give her. But I never really found a way to tell her that. I just kept trying, and failing."

Clarke nodded. "Okay," she said. "But what does that have to do with us? Because number one, who said anything about a relationship? We're enjoying each other right now, and that's what matters. If you go home tomorrow and you decide that you'd rather never see me again, well, we're not making any promises here, right? I hate the fact that there is so much stigma surrounding sex outside of a long-term, deeply committed relationship. It's ridiculous. Why can't two people just enjoy each other's company and each other's bodies as often or as seldom as it pleases them to do so? As long as everyone is being honest and no one is getting hurt." She took Lexa's hand and brought it to her lips, kissing her knuckles, then flipped it over and kissed the inside of her wrist where her pulse thrummed just beneath the surface. "And number two, if we _do_ start heading into relationship territory, let _me_ be the judge of whether or not you're relationship material, okay? Don't make that decision for me and think you're doing me a favor. I am more than capable of thinking for myself." 

Lexa swallowed, not sure what to say to all of that (and also more than a little distracted by the way the touch of Clarke's lips to her skin shot straight to the core of her like a jolt of electricity). Finally, she decided maybe it was better, or maybe just easier, not to say anything at all. Instead she put her plate aside and leaned in, pressing Clarke back against the couch cushions and demonstrating again just exactly how much she was, in fact, enjoying the pleasure of her company and her body.

The next day she woke up to a frantic phone call from work, demanding to know where she was. She looked at the time on the screen and her insides turned to ice. 8:35 am. Usually she was the first one in the office, and frequently the last one to leave, but she'd forgotten to turn her alarm on, and now she was late. 

"I'll..." she started, but then Clarke shifted beside her, nuzzling against her throat, and her hands under the sheets slid over Lexa's skin and she only just barely managed to bite back a moan. "Actually, I'm not coming in today," she said. 

"What? You can't—"

"I can," Lexa said. "I have so much vacation time saved up it's not even funny, and it's been so long since I've actually _taken_ a day off, it might actually be violating labor laws." That probably wasn't actually true, but it would at least make her co-worker (because of course her boss already had the day off, leaving his flunky to be the one to deal with situations like this) stop and think. "In fact, I'm taking the rest of the week off. I'll see you next year." She hung up and turned off her phone completely. 

Clarke smiled as Lexa pulled her closer. "That was really sexy," she said. 

Lexa laughed. "It felt really good," she admitted. 

"As good as this?" Clarke asked as she moved her hand, and Lexa gasped.

"Almost," she whispered, her lips brushing Clarke's as their bodies moved against each other. "But not quite."

* * *

"What are you plans for New Year's?" Clarke asked as soon as Lexa answered her phone. "Do you have another family thing?"

"No," Lexa said. "I didn't really have any plans." 

"Do you want to come out with me and my friends?"

"You're not tired of me?" Lexa teased. They'd seen each other every day that week. She'd finally gone home Monday night to sleep in her own bed, but it had felt too big and cold and empty and she'd almost called Clarke to ask her to come share it with her, but chickened out at the last second. She'd invited her out to breakfast the next morning, though, and she'd ended up back at Clarke's that night. So far, she hadn't actually brought Clarke here; for some reason the idea made her nervous.

"I'm not tired of you," Clarke confirmed. "I'm exhausted, but I'm not tired of you."

"Why are you exhausted?" Lexa asked, unable to stop the edge of worry that crept into her voice. 

She could hear the smirk in Clarke's voice. "Gee, I wonder," she said. "I'm not actually complaining."

Lexa blushed. The truth was, she was the exact opposite of exhausted. She felt more energized than she had in a very long time, and every minute she spent with Clarke just added to it, no matter what they did.

"I was also up all last night painting," Clarke said. "So there's that."

"What were you painting?" Lexa asked. 

"Take a wild guess," Clarke said. "Because if you think there's room in my imagination for anything but you right now, I've overestimated your powers of observation."

"Oh," Lexa said, feeling her cheeks heat again. "I..."

"Again, I'm not complaining," Clarke said. "It was time for a new muse."

"Who was your old one?" Lexa asked before she could stop herself. 

"A muse isn't always a who," Clarke said. "Before you, I was trying to infuse my work with the magic that children see in the world... trying to find inspiration in the hordes of Santa petitioners. It... wasn't as successful as I might have hoped. So do you want to come out or not?"

Lexa hesitated. Did she want to spend New Year's Eve with Clarke? Yes, absolutely. But Clarke had said 'with me and my friends'. Meaning they wouldn't be alone. Meaning... she didn't know what. She had no idea what Clarke's friends would be like, and she wasn't sure she was up to facing them and having to prove that she was good enough for Clarke when she honestly wasn't sure that she was. 

But she was would have to meet them eventually, because of the three basic options she saw, it was really the only one that was viable. Losing Clarke because she was too scared to face a little scrutiny absolutely wasn't an option. (She would also never hear the end of it from her sisters if she did that. Never.) Trying to convince Clarke to spend New Year's (or any other time) with her instead of her friends, trying to keep her all to herself, was the kind of thing that happened in abusive relationships, and she would never even suggest it. Which meant that she would just need to get over herself and face her fear head on.

"Yes," she said. "I would love to." 

"It's a date, then," Clarke said. "Pick me up at six?" Because her car was still in the shop, and it was starting to look more and more like the cost of repairs was going to exceed the value of the car, and Clarke was trying to decide whether it was even really worth it, or whether she would be better off just getting what she could for it in trade and getting something a little newer and more reliable. 

"It's a date," Lexa agreed. 

"I'll see you then. I've got a painting to finish."

"See you," Lexa said, swallowing the urge to ask if Clarke would prefer a live model, because really, they could spend time apart. They _should_ spend time apart. She just didn't want to. She was sure that her shrink (who she had conveniently not found the time to see in months) would have something to say about that, too.

It only occurred to her after the phone beeped, signaling that the call had ended, that she probably should have asked what they were doing so she would have some idea of what to wear. But New Year's Eve was tomorrow, so she could just ask when she called Clarke in the morning.

* * *

After several wardrobe changes, Lexa finally decided she'd found something that was dressy, but not _too_ dressy. Party worthy without being over-the-top. She had briefly considered asking her sisters for advice, but Luna's sense of style was... quirky, and Anya would have just laughed at her. And laughed at her. And laughed at her, until they'd inevitably end up tussling until something got broken or one of them ended up pinned to a floor or a wall in such a way that they finally had to tap out. (Not one of their habits that Luna was overly fond of, but they enjoyed it, however much they might pretend not to.)

She pulled up to Clarke's place exactly at six, and rang the bell. The door buzzed to let her in, so she headed up to Clarke's apartment. She tried to knob and found that the door was unlocked, so she just walked in.

"Sorry," Clarke said. "I meant to be ready, but I got caught up." She was hopping on one foot, trying to put her other shoe on with one hand and trying to put an earring in with another. 

"You're going to hurt yourself," Lexa said, coming over and steadying her. 

"Thanks," Clarke said, finally getting the back of the shoe over her heel and putting her foot down, the wire of the earring sliding through the hole. The earring itself sparkled as it dangled, looking like a shooting star or a firework, which Lexa assumed was the point. 

"You look beautiful," Lexa said. 

"Thank you," Clarke said. "So do you."

"You can't even see what I'm wearing," Lexa said.

"I don't need to," Clarke said, her eyes going soft, and Lexa leaned in to kiss her and by the time they pulled apart they both needed a mirror to fix their lipstick and make sure nothing else was out of place. 

"You like sushi, right?" Clarke asked as they headed down to Lexa's car. "I should have asked that before. I'm pretty sure that they have things other than sushi if you don't." 

"I love sushi," Lexa said. 

"Okay," Clarke said. "It's just... tradition."

Lexa glanced over at her and smiled. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll be on my best behavior."

"I'm not worried," Clarke said. "They're my friends. They'll love you because I—" She cut herself off, and the air was brittle in the wake of the words unsaid, like if either of them even breathed it might shatter. "Turn here," she said, her voice a breathless croak, even though Lexa knew how to get where they were going. 

They got to the restaurant and parked, and Lexa soon found herself on the edge of a group of hugging, chattering people, feeling out of place and wondering if this had really been such a great idea after all. But then Clarke turned to her, held out her hand and when Lexa took it, drew her into the group. "Everyone, this is Lexa," she said. "Lexa, this is everyone. Raven, Octavia, Lincoln, Wells, Bellamy, Gina, Monty, Jasper, Maya, Harper, Monroe, Miller, Brian, Murphy..." She pointed to each of them as she gave their name, and they obligingly lifted hands in greeting. 

There were a few that Clarke didn't know who offered their names, and Lexa was glad that she wasn't the only newcomer to the group. "Nice to meet you," Lexa said. 

"Are you ready to be seated?" the hostess asked. At their nods, they were escorted to the back, where probably five or six tables had been pushed together to form one big enough for the group. 

"How many of you are there?" Lexa hissed. 

Clarke laughed. "It's not that many," she teased. "Although I'll admit, sometimes when they get going it can feel like there's a hundred of them."

"I'll consider that fair warning," Lexa said. 

Clarke lifted their interlaced hands and brushed her lips over her knuckles. "You'll be fine," she said. "Just relax and be yourself."

"Sometimes I'm not sure I know who that is," Lexa said softly.

"Be the person that you've been with me all week," Clarke said. "Except, y'know, with all of your clothes on."

Lexa heard one of them – Raven, she was pretty sure – snort, and she felt heat rush to her cheeks and all the way to the tips of her ears. But once everyone was seated, conversation turned to what they were going to order (several of everything seemed to be the consensus) and then they all started catching up on what had been going on in their lives, because apparently some of them only saw the others a few times a year, and then their drinks arrived and conversation flowed as fast and free as the alcohol, and Lexa was content to mostly let it flow over her, at least until one of them – Octavia? – started talking about martial arts training, and Lincoln (her boyfriend?) trained as well, and that gave her something to talk about with them, and she started to really relax.

By the time the meal was over (and she was incredibly relieved to discover that everyone was okay with just dividing it equally, regardless of how much or what they had eaten, because otherwise it would have been a nightmare) she was actually enjoying herself. From dinner, they headed to someone's house for more drinks and TV and video games and board games and anything else anyone wanted to do to pass the time until midnight. Lexa mostly stuck by Clarke, but occasionally she found that she'd wandered off while Lexa was talking to one of her friends, and was a little surprised that she'd actually been so engaged in a conversation with a near stranger that she'd managed not to notice right away. 

As midnight drew near, though, she found herself checking more and more often to make sure that Clarke was at her side. Clarke took her hand and squeezed, tugging her in to whisper in her ear, "I'm not going anywhere."

Lexa nodded, letting the weight of the words settle in and anchor her, because she got the distinct impression that Clarke hadn't just meant she wasn't going anywhere right now, or tonight. It had only been a week, but it had been the best, most beautifully intense week Lexa had ever experienced, and she would have to call Anya and Luna later (or maybe in the morning) and thank them, from the bottom of her heart, for giving her that little push in the right direction back on Christmas Eve. Because this _was_ the right direction. She was absolutely sure of it.

Which was why, as they watched the ball drop in Times Square on the giant television mounted on the wall, and everyone around them broke into cheers of, "Happy New Year!" as the countdown to the New Year reached zero, as champagne flutes clinked and the lovers among them locked lips, she leaned in and whispered back, "I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is it, my friends - the last post of Clexathon! For those curious, not counting the chapters that were posted during the course of the month, or anything that I had written at some point in the past and never posted, I wrote 56,308 new words this month. Which is just over 3000 words less than what I wrote in November for NaNoWriMo. And several of these stories are likely to continue. I hope you all enjoyed! And please, if you still have prompts, send them to me, because you never know...
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone! Let's all hope that 2017 is a hell of a lot better than 2016.


End file.
